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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536936">Too Soft &amp; Too Much Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige'>thisisapaige</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, First Kiss, Fluff, For twelve years y'all, Happy September 18th, M/M, This is so sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Two Shot, i don't know what came over me, same scene different POV, slightly different based on who speaks first</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536936</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisapaige/pseuds/thisisapaige</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean worries he's too soft. Castiel worries he has too much heart.</p><p>They help each other realize that what they believe to be their biggest weakness is actually their biggest strength.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Too Soft</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy September 18th aka DeanCas day! (It’s still the 18th in my time zone, therefore it counts) Have some fluff to celebrate!</p><p><a href="https://thisisapaige.tumblr.com/">Come say hello on Tumblr!</a> I would love to make more fandom friends :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Too soft.</p><p>His father said it the first time Dean pointed a gun at a werewolf and faltered. Ghosts he could handle but, when he raised that gun, something the werewolf's glowing eyes was almost human. He did not pull the trigger.</p><p>Dad shot the werewolf for him, shouted the words, and forced Dean to deal with the body.</p><p>He was fourteen.</p><p>Too soft.</p><p>Bobby said it the time he took the Winchester brothers out hunting. For game, not monsters. Sammy, still hardly taller than Dean's chest, cried at the thought of hurting innocent creatures. Dean couldn't stand the look on his brother's face and refused to move further into the forest.</p><p>Bobby shook his head, muttered the words, then ruffled Dean's hair. They returned to Bobby's cabin and spent the night playing poker instead.</p><p>Dean felt guilt.</p><p>Too soft.</p><p>Sam said it a few days ago when he poked Dean in the belly. Dean didn't appreciate the reminder that he wasn't twenty anymore. Or even thirty. It was a joke, a bit of lighthearted teasing in the middle of their messed up lives, and Dean managed to return fire with yet another comment on Sam's hair.</p><p>Sam's chuckle followed Dean down the bunker's hallways. It was a joke. It was a joke.</p><p>Dean couldn't laugh.</p><p>Too soft.</p><p>Dean said it, over and over again: when he sold his soul to save Sam, when he let Crowley run free for the hundredth time, when he slammed his fist into a wooden sign behind a fast food joint when God wouldn't answer his prayer. </p><p>When Dean looked across the library table, he almost said it again. </p><p>He was supposed to be researching but laptop screen had long since turned black. Dean hardly noticed. He wasn't paying attention to it.</p><p>He was paying attention to Cas.</p><p>The furrow between Cas's eyebrows deepened as he poured over the book in front of him. His eyelashes cast shadows over his cheekbones when he squinted at the passage he read. A pink tongue darted out from between his lips, an unconscious action he made when lost in concentration. Long fingers tapped against the table, the quiet sound growing louder and faster the further he read down the page.</p><p>Dean knew that look. Someone was wrong again. Cas was about thirty seconds away from fixing Dean with one of his intense, indignant stares before he launched into an explanation about leprosy or locusts or something else equally Biblical and long since over. It was less an explanation and more of a complaint, really. Cas rolled his eyes when Dean called it that. That was why Dean did it.</p><p>Whenever Cas chose to speak, however, Dean knew he would listen to every last word.</p><p>Dean watched Cas, taking in every part of him down to that curl of hair on his forehead reminiscent of Superman, and his lips formed the words.</p><p>Too soft.</p><p>Dean couldn't harden his heart. He couldn't stop the surge in his chest when he noticed Cas twitch his nose. Angels could get itchy noses. Who knew?</p><p>The thought made Dean snort. Cas glanced up from his book and raised an eyebrow. There was no time for Dean to hide the dopey grin on his face or the light on his eyes. Too Cas's credit, all he did was smile back.</p><p>Cas opened his mouth, probably to say something about their research, but Dean closed the laptop with a click. He leaned across the table and, before he could think better of it, asked a question.</p><p>"Do you think I'm too soft?"</p><p>Cas pressed his lips together, absorbing the words. "Too soft?"</p><p>Cas said it, for the first time, in the bunker's library. He said it as a question, not an accusation. He said it like the entire idea was absurd.</p><p>Dean winced anyway.</p><p>"Yeah, uh, I mean…" Dean smacked his lips. "Like, I care too much. Or, like, I can't do my job because I'm..." He trailed off, realizing he never put it in words.</p><p>While he waited for an answer from the silent Cas, Dean picked at a knot in the wooden table. He didn't want to see Cas's face. He didn't want to see judgment. He didn't want to see exasperation. He didn't want to see teasing.</p><p>Too soft. </p><p>"Dean." Cas had a way of saying his name that caressed every one of his soft parts. It was gentle. It was kind. It made Dean look up and see kindness in Cas's eyes. "You care deeply about everything. About your work. About the people in your life. It makes you what you are."</p><p>"Yeah. Soft."</p><p>"If that's how you want to see it. This empathy-- this softness as you call it-- is the source of your strength."</p><p>"You really think that?"</p><p>Dean wasn't so sure. Being too soft, caring too much, had caused Dean a lot of pain. He lost too much, cried too much, felt too much. Maybe, if he wasn't too soft like his father said, his life wouldn't be so hard. Maybe, if he wasn't too soft like his father said, he could look at Cas, look at the shine in his eyes Dean was being to suspect was love, and not feel so afraid.</p><p>"Yes. Seeing you care so much. Seeing you…" The pause was brief but Dean noticed it. Dean noticed Cas swallow, notice the slightest shift in his gaze because Dean always closely observed Cas. "Love. It made me realize that it's not a weakness. It's strength."</p><p>Maybe, if he wasn't too soft like his father said, Dean could've found a response. </p><p>Chair legs scuffed across the floor but Dean didn't glance up, expecting Cas to leave. He didn't. Dean raised his head when Cas sat in the empty seat beside him. Dean jumped when Cas placed a hand over Dean's clenched fists balled up in his lap.</p><p>"What made you ask?" Cas's question was laced with concern.</p><p>Willing himself to relax, Dean flicked his eyes upward, not able to focus on Cas's face. "Nothing. Just, ah, thinking I guess." </p><p>Cas squeezed Dean's hands and made a move to pull away. Dean didn't let Cas go. Dean took Cas's hand between his own and held him there. </p><p>Too soft.</p><p>The words echoed in Dean's head, spoken by various voices in a variety of tones from all his life. Dean bit his tongue, not letting the words escape his mouth, and allowed himself to look up.</p><p>When he met Cas's eyes, Cas was just as soft, just as caring, just as loving. Dean took a deep breath and thought, maybe, just maybe, being too soft wasn't so bad.</p><p>Still holding Cas's hand, Dean stood from his chair. Cas stood with him. </p><p>Book and laptop ignored and research entirely forgotten, Dean faced Cas. They watched each other, waited, and wondered who was going to make the next move. In the silent, empty library Dean could hear Cas's breaths and how they hitched, just slightly, when Dean moved closer. Cas's eyes, soft and full of light, full of love, full of hope, stayed on Dean as they both shuffled closer to each other, inch by inch.  </p><p>Too soft. Too soft. Too soft.</p><p>Dean made the first move. </p><p>He dropped Cas's hand, but only to wrap both his arms around Cas's shoulders and bring him close. Dean pressed his lips to Cas's temple and told himself it was not quite a kiss. Dean held Cas.</p><p>Cas leaned into Dean, palms rubbing up and down Dean's back, seemingly content to stay there for all entirely if need be. Dean hoped he would. </p><p>Too soft. </p><p>Dean was too soft but it was okay. It was okay because, when Dean rested his forehead against Cas's, Cas smiled and closed his eyes. It was okay because, when Dean finally kissed Cas, Cas kissed him back, slow and sweet. </p><p>And, Dean was so soft, so soft for Castiel. He always had been and always will be. For the last twelve years, Dean loved Cas. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Too Much Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Are you curious as to what Cas was thinking and what he would've said if Dean hadn't spoken first? Well, I was, so I wrote it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>The angels said it the first the Castiel heard about the Righteous Man. Castiel wanted to know more about the individual behind the title. When Castiel asked, the other angels shook their heads and muttered the words. </p>
<p>When Castiel first laid a hand on Dean Winchester in hell, he was lost.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Naomi said it when she made Castiel reenact Dean's murder thousands of times. The first thousand, Castiel could not attack Dean. The next thousand, Castiel could not plunge the blade into Dean's heart. The thousand after that, Castiel killed Dean. It took another thousand before Castiel could hide his grief enough for Naomi to deem him cured.</p>
<p>When Castiel faced the real Dean, kneeling before him bloody, broken, and calling out to Castiel's heart, he dropped the blade and broke free of Naomi's control.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Ishim said it when Castiel hesitated a fraction of a second when the angels descended upon the supposed nephilim child. Years later, when the grieving mother enacted her revenge, Castiel hesitated when the angels were to attack again. It proved to be wise. </p>
<p>When Castiel, thrown to the floor by Ishmin's powerful fists, he watched as Dean hesitated with his hand hovering over the banishing sigil that could save his life but also end Castiel, and marvelled when Dean backed down and found another way.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Castiel said it himself, wondering if it were true. Angels were not supposed to feel. Angels were not supposed to care. Angels were not supposed to have a heart. They were not supposed to love anything other than God.</p>
<p>When Castiel looked across the library table and watched Dean's lips move slightly as he read an article on the laptop before him, Castiel wondered what the thing beating faster in his chest at the sight was called if not a heart.</p>
<p>Dean sighed. Castiel knew that particular sound. Dean found nothing. Stretching both arms over his head, Dean groaned and leaned back in his chair. He took a breath and tapped at the trackpad, moving on to the next article. </p>
<p>Castiel was supposed to be researching. He was supposed to read the pages laid out on the table before him but he was not able to focus on the book. </p>
<p>He focused on Dean. </p>
<p>Dean leaned over the laptop with his elbow on the table and his hand propping up his head. The hunch in his back would bother him later but he would only complain if Castiel mentioned it. The screen bathed Dean in a stark white light that managed to somehow make the green of his eyes even brighter. </p>
<p>Castiel had always been fond of those eyes. Sometimes, when he peered into them, Castiel swore he could see the strong soul underneath. Every time he caught a glimpse, Castiel's heart quickened.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Castiel returned to the task at hand. He read the book, his agitation growing as he found more inaccuracies in the text. Castiel knew the account was wrong. He was there when it happened. </p>
<p>A snort from across the table made Castiel glance up. Dean grinned at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. Castiel did not know what he did to make Dean smile but he did not mind. When Dean looked at him like that, Castiel could almost allow himself to believe he saw love. </p>
<p>Dean shut the laptop with a click. He opened his mouth to say something, probably about his lack of success in researching the case, but Castiel spoke first.</p>
<p>"Too much heart."</p>
<p>He had not meant to say the words but he was thinking them, once again, when he met Dean's eyes. The thoughts fell from Castiel's mind to his mouth before he could pull them back.</p>
<p>Dean raised an eyebrow, his grin fading slightly. "What?"</p>
<p>"Nothing," Castiel said, fiddling with the pages at the edge of the book, "just thinking."</p>
<p>"Now, now." Dean clicked his tongue. "You know that's dangerous."</p>
<p>"I know."</p>
<p>Dean must have heard Castiel's sullen tone because he leaned over the table, tapped the back of Castiel's hand gently with one finger, then asked, "So, what were you thinking about?"</p>
<p>"That this book is not very accurate." Dean chucked at the answer. Castiel folded his hands in his lap and sat up in his chair, choosing to share what was really on his mind. "And that I have too much heart."</p>
<p>"Too much heart," Dean echoed, quiet and contemplative. He rubbed his fingers through his stubble, eyes drifting upward and to the left. He shook his head and returned his attention to Castiel. "What makes you say that?"</p>
<p>Castiel shrugged. He was getting better at that; he was getting better at inhabiting his body. He did not have to think about the action. It just happened on its own. Sometimes he liked the new development. Other times, he did not. It made it harder to hide his emotions or to hide his thoughts, especially the ones he had when he made the mistake of watching Dean.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>"I--" Castiel hesitated. Dean raised his eyebrows encouragingly for Castiel to continue. "I care."</p>
<p>It was difficult to say. There was so much more-- so much emotion-- behind that four-lettered word. Castiel licked his lips and resisted the urge to break away from Dean's stare. </p>
<p>"I mean," Dean said, "that's not a bad thing."</p>
<p>As Castiel considered the words, his head drifted to the side. He caught the tiny smile Dean made at the action. </p>
<p>"It brought you here," Dean continued, opening his arms wide to encompass the bunker's library, "to all this glitz and glamour. Who wouldn't want that?"</p>
<p>Castiel knew that was sarcasm, but it was true. "You're right."</p>
<p>"I'm always right!" Castiel fondly rolled his eyes at Dean's declaration. Dean's next words were delivered softly, spoken to the tabletop rather than Castiel. "And you know, you're here. With me."</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>"Yes," Castiel said, "for the last twelve years."</p>
<p>"Yeah, for the last twelve years." Dean took a deep breath, then made sure Castiel could see his face, could see his soul, when he said, "I'm glad it was you, you know, who saved me."</p>
<p>"Sometimes--" Castiel took a deep breath of his own. "Sometimes I think you saved me."</p>
<p>Neither said anything. Neither looked away. The silent library echoed with the sound of all the unspoken things between them.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>They both stood at the same time. They both moved around the table and, inch by slow inch, moved closer to each other. </p>
<p>Castiel could not find any more words, so he reached out to Dean and grabbed his hand. Castiel placed Dean's hand flat over his chest and let the rapid beat underneath speak instead.</p>
<p>Dean took Castiel's free hand. Mimicking the action, Dean lay Castiel's hand on his chest. Dean's heart beat just as fast, saying the same thing.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Castiel could not tell who moved first. All he knew was that Dean's arms were wrapped around him, Dean's back muscles flexed under his hands when Castiel pulled him closer, and that Dean's lips were on his own in a soft, tender, endless kiss.</p>
<p>Too much heart.</p>
<p>Castiel cared. Castiel felt. Castiel loved. </p>
<p>And Castiel realized that having too much heart could be a good thing. For his whole existence, he felt like no other angel. For the last twelve years, he loved something other than God.  Perhaps-- oh, perhaps-- that heart could be enough to love Dean.  </p>
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